"She's evidently coming after us, but they couldn't stop us when we're doing nothing wrong," he said.
Montreal laughed a little. "I don't quite know 'bout the sea otter, but we were right in abreast of the seal beaches when he last saw us," he said. "That with the pelts on board, would be quite enough for him."
"But we didn't get the skins there," said Appleby.
"Well," said Montreal dryly, "you'd find it hard to make any one believe it. When you catch a dog with a mutton chop in a butchery store nobody's going to ask him where he found it."
"Still, with the land to leeward, the skipper can't get away unless he runs her on the reefs," said Appleby.
"He'd do that before he let those fellows have her, but that land's an island. They've most of them more than one shore," said Montreal.
Appleby asked no more questions. He was by this time quivering with suppressed excitement, and fancied the others were quite as anxious too, though there was little in their appearance to show it. They were quietly watching the gunboat rise higher out of the dimness, though they knew that a good many unpleasant things would follow their capture. One or two of them, however, glanced towards the land, which was very blurred and hazy now, and then turned to watch the skipper, who was still talking half-aloud with Stickine. At last he moved a little.
"We've got to take our chances, but I wish I knew just what water he draws in cruising trim," he said. "We're 'bout level with the passage. Donovitch will take her in."
Stickine said something, the mainboom swung further outboard, and as the schooner fell off towards the land, the lads, looking forward anxiously, could only see the dim face of a crag, and the whiteness of tumbling foam. Then they saw the man on the main-gaff nod as the skipper glanced up at him.
"Coming right in after us," he said.